


Savor Me

by EclecticInk



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Biting, Bloodplay, Cannibalism, Clothes On, Cooking, M/M, Raw Sex, Rough Sex, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9144451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticInk/pseuds/EclecticInk
Summary: Perfectly prepared people isn't the only thing Will Graham wants Hannibal to sink his teeth into~





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Hannibal fic and try at 1st person POV, so I hope I did both justice! Constructive critique is welcome! Thank you for reading!

Love is crazy.

That’s what everyone says, right? 

That love is this wondrous, wild, untamable and often terrifying thing. That it can drive you to be a better version of yourself… to strive for valor and greatness! Or to do things darker and more sinister than anything ever concocted in even your most white-knuckling nightmares.

After all, some of the most devastating stories; the most horrific acts in history were carried out in the name of love.

I have always wanted to be a man capable of ‘love’ for another. That pure, selfless, beautifully poetic kind of devotion that sonnets are written about. I had romanticized the idea in my youth of the perfect fairytale life… A cozy cottage out in nature, with a pretty wife and a few rugrats running around the yard with the dog.

I’d gotten part of that dream, in a way. The cabin is cozy, if not tucked away from the rest of humanity. I have numerous kids, but they are all adopted and of the four-legged variety… and as for my ‘wife’… well…

…At least he is a good cook!

The comparison brings a wry smile to my lips as I glance over at the man in his kitchen, humming some lilting tune to himself and completely in his element as he adds cooking sherry to the pan, letting it broil and froth around the tender meat he is preparing for us tonight.

What had been this one’s name again…? 

I can hardly keep track anymore what has been harvested from whom… And really, does it matter?

The food has never been hard to swallow… only the guilt that comes with enjoying it as much as I do.

I can tell it gives him a perverse pleasure in knowing that I have surrendered to this fact. After all, he all but hand fed me every bite until the flesh of man was all I knew… All that can sustain me, as it does him.

Yes, I had always wanted to be capable of that sweet, tender, selfless kind of love…

But I’ve fallen in love with a jackal. And a jackal’s love is feral, cunning, and full of sharp teeth.

I chew the meat of my bottom lip as I watch him move around the kitchen, from stove to counter; tailored slacks and form hugging vest over a crisp button up accenting the form of flawless masculinity. Blinking in surprise as the warm bitterness of copper coats my tongue, I realize only after the fact that I’ve pierced my own flesh. It had only gone unnoticed by me it would seem.

My jackal’s eyes are on me now.

Hannibal’s eyes follow the trail of oozing crimson as it stains my lip and drips down on my chin. His brows draw together ever so slightly as he regards me, my name flowing off his lips in that baritone that seems to glide like water from the nape of my neck right down the curve of my spine, leaving a chill in its wake.

“It’s nothing… slip of the tooth,” I dismiss it as I step to join him in the kitchen, reaching to take the linen napkin he’s already handing me. “This will get stained you know…”

“Yes, but I have others.” He counters with the slightest twist of a smile at the corner of his lips; eyes lingering on the cut in my lip a moment longer before his attention turns back to the meal.

I press the napkin to my lip and lean against the counter, watching him and the way he moves. I can’t help the way my own body responds anymore. Hannibal and I have been through too much… I think we still dance around killing each other as much as killing WITH each other. Our personal, bloody tango. And yet here we are… down right domestic.

Well, when we aren’t butchering a human being together to refill the freezer.

I smile a little as he bends over to put the pan in the oven to broil, moving up behind him and lightly touching his hips. 

“So, what are we having tonight, Hannibal?”

He stills as I touch him, a cautious predator, even now… I don’t blame him. He’s slipped a knife into me under the guise of compassion… I could do the same to him while offering seduction. There is a part of me, perhaps a part Hannibal himself conceived in me, that relishes knowing that I have the power to make the killer in my grasp shiver with even the slightest tremor of uncertainty.

Will we always approach each other with suspicion?

I am not looking to deceive him today… I don’t even seek the upper hand this time. Hannibal has always been at his best when he’s in control. I rub his waist slowly and draw my hands up his stomach, burrowing them in the warmth between his vest and his shirt while my hips rock forward, the outline of what I actually have in mind for us pressing against the seat of his slacks. Hannibal relaxes with a soft hum of comprehension and turns in my arms, our breath now mingling with how close our lips are.

“William--.”

I claim the first kiss before he continues and groan against him when he instantly responds, his hands mirroring the grip I have on him and his mouth maneuvering to get in deeper; damned silver tongue of his savagely pressing to the split in my lip, opening it wider and forcing the blood to flow. He drinks of me and I feel the shudder that runs through my body shake my very bones. He sucks slowly on my lip in such a way that my dick weeps in my pants, feeling the phantom heat and wetness of those lips I know so well as though Hannibal was on his knees right now, gorging himself on my ‘meat’.

As we both break for air, I pin him with my gaze and I know he can read the hunger in me as easily as I can read it in him. I smile slowly and dab my tongue against the now tender puncture in my lip, letting myself relax back on the counter once more and reach for the stem of his wine glass sitting only inches away; hoisting it for a sip and savoring the way it’s flavor only brings out the taste of my own blood on my tongue.

“You crave me, don’t you, Hannibal? Not just as a passing amusement or a fuck, as most men would crave another… You want to eat me.” I state it with absolute certainty. I questioned it for a time, but I know the man too well now to doubt something so obvious.

He smiles, reaching to take the glass from my fingers and bring it to his own lips; the way his Adams apple bobs as he slowly swallows distracting my gaze for the briefest of moments.

“The thought has crossed my mind more than once.” He admits with ease and not a single hint of shame.

“Well than, why hold back? It doesn’t seem your style. Why not take a taste, Hannibal? Savor me awhile like you do your fucking wine~.”

His eyebrow arches slightly at my words, and for a man so composed…so well restrained, he might as well have just bared his teeth at me to match that animal look in his eyes. 

“… You say such things, William, knowing the danger it puts you in…”

“Knowing, yes… Willingly.”

I catch a blur of movement before I am pinned to the counter, my vicious lovers weight pressing against me so completely that the marble of his kitchen top bites unforgivingly into my ass, making the muscle clench in protest. The discomfort means little though when Hannibal’s hands are feverishly tugging open my pants, nearly ripping the zipper off it’s stitching in his haste to get to my skin. I reach down to grope at where his shirt is tucked into his slacks, fumbling to get a proper grip on it and tug upwards, knowing full well that what we are about to do will be fevered, messy, and most likely bloody.

It’s not that Hannibal and I cannot share tenderness... We have on many occasions and our relationship was born on intimacy and compassion as much as lies and suspicion. 

Hannibal, for all the monster he is, can be a timeless romantic, and there have been times we made love that I almost forgot who he really is… How the pampered softness of his hands as they caress every inch of my naked body with such care and reverence is almost chilling when I think of the many lives they’ve taken; the skill in which they have removed his precious culinary delights. 

But this will not be tender… This will not be sweet…

We are both monsters, and this is how monsters mate.

Clashing teeth, dueling tongues, nails turning to claws as they dig in and gouge, leaving raw red lines in their wake.

I’m spun around and my palms slap damp with sweat against the polished countertop, giving me my first good look at myself. In my reflection staring back at me, I look drugged again… and oh fuck, maybe I am! After all, what else could you call my need for him but an insatiable addiction?

Hannibal’s hands move with practiced ease; my pants pooling at my ankles, too soon followed by my underwear, making my skin break out in goose flesh at the kiss of cool air. His weight presses me down, flattening my chest to the cold stone and the musk of his imported aftershave surrounds me like a veil as he leans over, whispering low at my ear.

“This will not be entirely pleasant for you, my darling~”

“I’m not as fragile as I once was… I’ve been tempered by you…” I whisper reassuringly, more than willing to take the brunt of his ferocity.

He lightly hums and I don’t need to see the approving smile on his lips to know it’s there…

And then he thrusts.

I swear time stops when Hannibal takes me… The passion he conveys with his body isn’t entirely human… It’s godly. And God save me, when he’s inside me… There’s nothing I could deny him!! No part of me left guarded as his body moves against me, into me… pieces of me carved out and filled in by the immensity of the monster that is HIM!

…And I love him for it….

As if the hard rhythm of his hips wasn’t punishing enough and just what I need, his teeth find the nape of my neck and dig in without mercy, bleeding me like a lamb. My voice is hoarse, pleading for mercy, but not from the pain… oh no… not from my jackal’s fangs. The only pity I crave is for Hannibal’s hand to grip me and bring me the sweet, numbing release that has twisted my loins into an agonizing knot. He denies me, of course, as he so often does when I goad him into dropping the act of being a good and ‘civil’ man. All I can do is clench my fists against the cold stone under my burning face, grit my teeth and cuss sharply with every other breath until I feel his rhythm start to falter.

Fuck, he’s close, and his voice is the stuff of literal wet dreams. I glance back as best I can to look at his face and see my blood coating his lips; dripping down his chin…and Christ when he locks his eyes on mine and licks his lips…!!

“H-Hannibal…! J-Jesus…..”

I’m wrecked and broken beneath him, barely able to hold my own weight up on my shaky legs. It’s only made better by Hannibal pressing up firmly behind me with a low, guttural groan against my hair as he spends himself inside me, his heat imprinting my flesh like a hot iron.

We stand, barely, unstable and panting for several perfect moments before his breath tickles his ears when he chuckles.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve come untouched, Will…”

“Yeah, well that’s the first time you took a literal bite out of me…” I scoff softly, and glance over my shoulder at him with a wry little smile.

Something dark and exciting glimmers in his eyes as he looks back, his tongue sampling what lingers of me on his lips.

“Is that all it takes? Because I’m happy to ‘savor’ more of you…”

I’m not sure if the chill that runs up my spine is thrilling or foreboding, but I ignore it as I lean up and crane my neck around to kiss him deep and through.

“… I’m not ready to be on the menu just yet… Now… What’s for dinner?”

Fin-


End file.
